


Fall

by sasha_b



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt on the kinkmeme: <i>After Shane and Lori have their talk in Better Angels, Shane goes back to work on building the watch tower. Something happens (board comes loose, metal of the water tower is old and rusty, whatever) and he falls and lands on his back. He breaks it (but doesn't damage his spinal cord, so no permanent paralysis).</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers from **18 Miles Out** and beyond.

The light crossed over his face, more quickly than he'd imagine day would end. He blinked and wondered if anyone would come out here - if anyone would notice - and then he laughed, and he ached like his body was on fire, pain radiating from the base of his spine all the way through the top of his head.

Shane moved his legs _thank you good God_ and he knew he wasn't in for it, but still, he was _in for it_ if someone didn't realize. He still didn't know exactly what happened, but he remembered climbing up the tower to fix the windmill, mind awash in crazy thoughts, eyes teared up, angry and fucking _confused_ and _maybe she'll come back, or maybe he'll forgive me now too_ a repetitive pattern he couldn't lose or forget. Not until the sun sparked off the rusting metal of the fan blades and he stepped a bit back and missed a plank and suddenly 

He blinked again at the sun that was about set and laughed again, despite the pain. He'd landed hard, harder than he thought was possible. It was like hitting the lake he and Rick had played in as kids, swinging from the rope tied to the closest maple, tree limb bending dangerously as they'd leaped and yodeled and screamed and landed face first in the water. Hard. Rick had almost pissed himself from laughing at Shane the first time he'd done it.

They'd both gotten better at it as they'd gotten older, but then the limb had actually broken and life moved on and they hadn't had time to have _fun_ for what one of Shane's ex flames called "a hot minute."

He giggled and winced and the giggle turned into a moan and the sun set and he closed his eyes against the coming darkness.

_I am so sorry, Shane._

A few tears leaked from under his closed lids and he wiped at them messily, his hands not wanting to work right, his back screaming at him from all angles, the night birds starting to call, which in a way was good, because maybe then no geeks would be showing up. He refused to be a sitting fucking duck for some damn zombie's easy dinner. No fucking way. If Shane Walsh was gonna go out, he'd damn well go out on his own terms, thank you. 

He'd done some things to be proud of, and some things he would never forget for their stupidity. Lori and Carl, that he'd always be grateful for. He hadn't been lying to Rick when he'd said they had saved _him_ really. And still Rick hadn't answered. Still he hadn't answered, still he hadn't forgiven Shane, in so many words.

Shane barked a _fuck_ that he hoped could be heard in fucking' Nebraska or some such far place. He would not die like this. He gritted his teeth, his clothing feeling damp with sweat - he hoped - and began to turn over.

And then collapsed, crying with pain, tongue bloody from being bitten.  
He cast his eyes about, looking for his gun - there it was, by the damn car. He sucked in a breath, in, out then forced a turn over, all the way to his stomach.

His vision tunneled, his eyes saw spots he was pretty sure weren't really there, and when he opened them again, his forehead was smeared with dirt from the ground his head had collapsed against. Had he fainted? Jesus fuckin' Christ, thank God no one had seen him do _that._

He put out a hand, and dragged himself forward. One inch, two, three.

He lifted his head again, and the moon had come out. "Fuck's sake!" his voice sounded rusty to his own ears, and the car and the gun were no closer.

_I'm so sorry, Shane. I don't even know whose baby this is._

He bit his tongue again.

One more inch.

Someone's hands touched his shoulders, shaking fingers, dust in his face from the sand being kicked up by the person's boots. Panicked voice, big blue eyes, red stubbled cheeks and Shane felt himself being turned over again, _god damn it I worked too hard for that!_ and stared up into Rick's eyes, the other man shouting something at him he couldn't hear or process at the moment.

He coughed out another laugh, mouth desert dry, truth be told sick to death of laughing at himself and his failures. He allowed Rick to lift him and lolled his head over at Glenn on the other side, the boy's face worried and white. His cap was missing, which Shane found oddly funny.

"...get him inside.." was all Shane could really hear and he turned his face to Rick again, the moon silvering his friend's hair, bleaching his face to bone and sinew.

"Forgive me now?" Shane opened his mouth before he could check his self-pitying words; he fucking hated the sound of it, but it was too late and Rick was looking at him like he'd like the Earth to swallow him up. Either that or Rick was the best faker at guilt fucking _ever._

"Brother," Rick started, and then clicked his mouth shut, jaw bunching, eyes burning into Shane's, and then they shifted him just a bit and he cried out and 

The room that they'd sewn Carl up in - Shane was thankful for his job in that too, no matter Otis or not - was quiet and he was propped up. When he opened his eyes, he saw Rick seated in the corner chair, looking as blanched as he had when Carl had been hanging on to life tremulously.

Shane wanted to wake him up, but instead, he watched and breathed through the non-existent pain (they musta given him some drugs, hallelujah) and examined each of his mistakes and wondered, if only for a moment, if he should of let them geeks in the bus take him where they'd wanted to.

That way he wouldn't have to think, anymore.

_My own terms, my way._

His hand brushed something hard at his side and he looked down to see his Glock, shining and dust free next to him. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes just as Rick was opening his, and his hand closed over the gun, tightly, familiarly.


End file.
